


Where There's a Will There's a Way

by xiaq



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Power Acquisition, Cultural Differences, Domesticity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Forehead Touching, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, It is now, It's Soft, Kid Fic, Luke and Din do the whole courting cohabitation marriage children thing completely out of order, M/M, Not actually unrequited love they're just idiots, Sharing a Bed, THE ANSWER MAY SHOCK YOU, There might be a little plot, Training, Unrequited Love, but it's fine, how much can these losers touch each other platonically before realizing its not platonic, is that a tag, this is all Ngozi's fault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaq/pseuds/xiaq
Summary: Luke walks straight to Din and Din suddenly feels like he should be doing something with his hands.“Hi,” he says.“Hi,” Luke agrees, grinning. “So. I didn’t get your name, before. Grogu just calls you ‘Daddy’ in his head but I’m assuming I should call you something else.”Din chokes a little.*****This is basically an Accidental Warlord Din Djarin fic in which Din plays the role of reluctant DILF leader with a heart of gold and Luke plays the role of initially distrusted twink who quickly becomes beloved by all (especially said warlord). The Mandalorians are like, "we've only had Luke Skywalker for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 118
Kudos: 769





	1. Chapter 1

“Well,” Luke says, looking at the sparking remains of his X-wing in the hanger. “That’s not good.”

R2 beeps in agreement.

Luke gives the space a slow once-over, reaching out with the force, but it seems they’re alone. The Dark Troopers must have destroyed the X-wing before he finished destroying them. 

There are an assortment of other ships available, but he doesn’t want to just _take_ one without knowing if they’re needed by the people—team?—that he left behind in the control room. He also doesn’t particularly want to go back. Because it’s a long walk and he’d also, admittedly, handled things a bit awkwardly. He wasn’t expecting Mandalorians. _The_ Mandalorian, if he’s being honest. The one with Beskar armor. The one who’d looked so tenderly at the child when he’d said goodbye. There was something about him that—

The PA system comes on and a highly irritated female voice reverberates through the hangar.

“Hey Jedi,” she says. “We’re being hailed by a Corellian YT-1300 freighter. They’re requesting permission to dock and they say they know you. Hand up for yes, hand down for no.”

Luke locates the nearest camera and raises the arm not holding the child.

Well. That solved his transportation problem easily enough.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Leia would come—that she’d press Han into following Grogu’s call for help. The child’s request was loud and far-reaching and Leia is just as force-sensitive as Luke is.

“Things are about to get interesting,” he murmurs.

The child pats one hand against his jaw and sleepily requests some food—recalls a particularly tasty frog—and thinks, with some concern, about the Mandalorian—his…father?

Luke blinks.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” he says.

The child coos in agreement.

***

Din follows Cara and Bo-Katan to the hangar feeling hollow.

Happiness at the opportunity to see the child again wars with quiet despair. They’re only slightly prolonging the permanent goodbye and the first was hard enough. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive a second.

There are two humanoids and a droid exiting the Corellian YT-1300 freighter when they arrive, and the Jedi, with Grogu still in his arms, hugs them all before starting a lively conversation with the droid.

“What the hell,” Cara says. “Is that Senator Organa?”

“Who?” Din asks.

Bo-Katan makes a derisive noise. “She’s a princess, too. I wonder how she knows the Jedi. And what she’s doing on that…ship.”

Din thinks the disgust in her voice is a little misplaced. The ship is admittedly shabby-looking but she’s clearly well-maintained and whoever did the aftermarket work on her knew what they were doing. 

“Show some respect,” Cara says, “It’s a ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.”

“Hard to believe,” Bo-Katan murmurs.

He finds his attention sliding away from the ship and back to the Jedi.

With his hood down and a wide, white smile he looks impossibly young and so different from the fantastic spectre that saved them, that single-handedly destroyed an entire unit of Dark Troopers.

Din can’t seem to stop looking at him; at the way he cradles the child.

His hair looks soft.

The Corellian’s occupants approach them.

“I’m Han,” the man says. “This is Leia. Who are you?” His eyes catch on Din’s belt. “And is that a _lightsaber_?”

“Cara,” Cara says. “That’s Din. You’ll need to give him a minute. He’s busy staring at the twink.”

Han follows the direction of Din’s gaze.

“You mean _Luke_?” Han asks. 

_Luke,_ Din thinks. It suits him.

“He’s not a twink. He saved the goddamn universe,” Han says.

“Are you saying twinks aren’t capable?” Cara asks. “That seems prejudiced.”

“No, I’m saying I think it’s a little inappropriate to call a Jedi Knight—

“Are you saying twinks can’t be Jedi?”

“ _No_ ,” Han says. “I’m just saying—”

“You’re going to lose this battle,” Leia murmurs.

“You’re taking _her_ side?”

“Well,” Leia says, gesturing toward Luke. “I mean. Look at his outfit. Look at his _boots_.”

“Definitely a twink,” Cara says.

“He’s a twink with immeasurable power,” Han says.

“He’s a twink with _perfectly good hearing_ ,” Luke calls.

They all freeze.

“See. He self-identifies as one,” Cara says. “It’s fine.”

Luke finishes whatever conversation he’d been having with the droid and walks over to them, Grogu tucked protectively, asleep, in one arm.

Luke walks straight to Din and Din suddenly feels like he should be doing something with his hands.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Luke agrees, grinning. “So. I didn’t get your name, before. Grogu just calls you ‘daddy’ in his head but I’m assuming I should call you something else.”

Din chokes a little.

It sounds like Han does too.

“Told you,” Cara mutters.

“Din,” Din says. “My name.”

Obviously.

His face heats and he’s never been so thankful for his helmet.

“Din,” Luke repeats. It sounds nice when he says it.

“You know, I sort of got the impression, initially, that you were hoping to get rid of Grogu. Or—” he hastens to add, “not get rid of him, but pass him off to safety. So you could get on with your life. But you seem pretty—”

“Wrecked?” Cara supplies.

“Attached,” Luke finishes.

“I am,” Din says. “But he needs to be with his people.”

“He seems to think _you’re_ his people, and I have to agree. He was so calm about going with me because he thought you’d catch up with us. Because any time you leave him you always come back. You always find him again. He trusts that and very little else. I think it will be damaging for him if that trust is broken.”

Din shifts. He doesn’t know how to process the emotions he’s having and he’s exhausted and in pain and so, so relieved. Because it sounds like the Jedi isn’t going to take Grogu away from him. Not permanently.

“What are you saying?” he asks. He has to be sure.

“I’m saying, you’re his father. And I’m not the kind of person who’d take a child from their parent when it would obviously destroy them both. So once we’re finished here, either you’re coming with me, or I’m coming with you.”

“Oh,” Din says. 


	2. Chapter 2

Din sits at a table in the mess hall and holds Grogu and feeds Grogu and wonders when he’ll be able to sleep. He can’t remember ever being this tired before.

Luke is sitting next to him, grinning and ebullient and chatty. He occasionally touches Din’s arm.

Din likes that.

“So,” Bo-Katan asks, setting her own meal down and pulling off her helmet. “Would you mind clarifying who the hell you are, Jedi?” She nods to Han and Leia, “and what the hell _you’re_ doing here? No offense, Princess.” 

Leia points to the child with her fork. “I heard him,” she says. “It was hard to resist the call. And I knew Luke would answer immediately. He tends to be impulsive. I thought he might need backup.”

“Not this time,” Luke says cheerfully. 

“That clarified nothing,” Bo-Katan says.

“The kid is a force-user,” Han explains. “He used the force to try and find help. We came to make sure the kid was safe and that Luke didn’t do anything stupid,” Han uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “And we need to get back before the fucking council meeting in two days. And before our son kills the babysitter. So if we can finish up and head out, that’d be great.”

“You still haven’t explained who you are, Jedi,” Bo-Katan says.

There’s a sharpness to the statement that sets Din on edge.

“I’m Luke,” Luke says. “Skywalker.”

“Of fucking course he is,” Cara says. She nudges Han in a way that he doesn’t appear to like, but he also doesn’t make any attempt to stop her. Probably because he realizes it would be futile. “I guess you weren’t lying about the ‘saved the universe’ thing,” she says.

“Why would I lie about that?” Han mutters.

Din has a lot of questions.

“He’s also my brother,” Leia says.

Bo-Katan crosses her arms. “Does that mean he’s a prince?”

“Oh, no,” Luke says. “Definitely not. I’m just Luke.”

“Nothing ‘just’ about him,” Han says. “He destroyed the Death Star. And killed Darth Sidious.”

“I had help.”

Din finds himself staring again.

“You destroyed the Death Star?” Din asks. “In the battle of Yavin?” He’s heard about that, at least. “You’re a _pilot_?”

“Oh boy,” Cara mutters.

“I mean,” Luke says. “I’m a pretty good flier, yeah.”

“Will you be taking the child or remaining with us?” Bo-Katan interrupts.

Luke glances from Grogu to Din. “I think that’s something Din and I need to discuss.” He puts his hand on Din’s arm. “Obviously the child needs an education, but I don’t know what your plans are. I’m happy to bring you both with me, but I don’t really have a home base at the moment.”

“He is the Mand’alor,” Bo-Katan says. “He cannot go with you. He has a duty to uphold.”

“What’s a Mand’alor?” Luke asks. 

“King, basically,” Cara says. 

“No,” Din says.

“He won the Darksaber in combat,” Bo-Katan says. “He is the rightful leader of Mandalore until the saber is similarly taken from him.”

“Oh,” Luke says. “The Darksaber. That’s—it belonged to Tarre Vizsla, the first Mandalorian inducted into the Jedi order, right?”

“Correct.”

“Do you know how to use it?” Luke asks.

“No,” Din says. “And I don’t want—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are chosen. You will not abandon your people.”

“Yeah, no,” Luke agrees. “That sounds bad. You should not do that.”

“But the child—“ Din starts.

“Hey,” Luke says. “This actually works out pretty well. I can just. Come with you. I’ll help train Grogu. I’ll teach you how to use the lightsaber. It’ll be great.”

“The Mand’alor does not need tutoring from a _Jedi_ ,” Bo-Katan hisses.

“I mean. Do you have someone else who can teach him? So he doesn’t accidentally cut off his own foot?”

Bo-Katan says nothing.

“No disrespect, but it sounds like you kind of need me. And I’m available!”

“Convenient,” Cara says. 

Luke’s hand spasms on Din’s arm and he withdraws it, looking sheepish. 

“Sorry.”

His hand twitches again and Din only just restrains himself from reaching out to investigate.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead.

Luke pulls off his glove and wiggles cybernetic fingers.

“I’m part robot on my father’s side.”

Din doesn’t understand.

Luke wrinkles his nose. “That was a joke?”

“Yeah,” Cara says, “you should just assume Din has no idea who you are.”

“Right,” Luke says. “Well. Sorry. Something got knocked loose when I was fighting earlier. I’ll need to recalibrate it.”

“Do you want help?” Din asks.

He doesn’t mean to. It just sort of happens.

“That would be great, actually. I can do the maintenance myself but it’s always nice to have another set of hands.”

“I have hands,” Din says.

Cara stifles a laugh.

Luke grins at him. “Yes, you sure do.”

***

The Mandalorian is asleep.

_Din._

Din is asleep.

And the child is asleep on his chest, one of Din’s hands cupped around his back, large and protective and a little bit devastating.

Luke tries, unsuccessfully not to stare at them.

In the last 24 hours, they had taken the Millennium Falcon to  Chandrila , ensuring Leia was back in time for the council meeting. From there, Luke, Din and Cara had procured a ship and they were now en route to rendezvous with what remains of Din’s people on Mandalore. 

Din had offered to take Cara back to Nevarro but she’d said she wanted to go with them because she wouldn’t miss ‘this,’ for the world.

Luke isn’t sure what ‘this’ is—rebuilding Mandalore? But he’s happy for her company. She doesn’t seem to actively hate him, unlike the Mandalorians, so she’s probably a good friend to have.

Cara is lounging on one of the fold down bunks, sharpening a knife.

“So,” Luke says. “Have you known Din long?”

“Long enough.”

“You seem close.”

“Close enough.”

Luke flexes his fingers.

“Hey,” she says, “do you want me to help with that?”

“Oh,” he glances at Din again, “No, it’s fine. It can wait.”

“You mean it can wait until _Din_ can help you?

“That—no.”

Cara raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

The eyebrow hitches higher.

“Alright, yes.”

She shakes her head and returns to knife-sharpening. “He’s as oblivious as you are obvious.”

“Good?”

Cara sighs.

Luke clears his throat. “So. Do you know if he’s single?”

She looks like she’s trying not to laugh at him. “Yes.”

“Yes he’s single or yes you know if—”

“Yes, he’s single.”

“Cool. Cool. Do you know if he’s interested in, uh—”

“Jedi?”

“I was going to say ‘men,’ but actually could the Jedi thing be an issue? I mean. Mandalorians and Jedi don’t exactly have the best history.”

“Well. For the former, I can tell you he turned down an invitation from a kind, gorgeous woman to stay on her equally kind, gorgeous planet and play house with her. And for the latter, he was willing to give you his kid so clearly he’s not holding any historical grudges.”

“I guess that’s something. Can you tell me why he keeps his helmet on all the time?”

Luke had noticed that the other Mandalorians took theirs off to eat and have conversations, but aside from his initial goodbye with Grogu, Din has kept his on. It’s on even now, as he sleeps.

Luke imagines that’s not very comfortable.

“Oh, kid,” Cara says.

“What?”

“It’s complicated. All Mandalorians wear armor, _earn_ armor, and live by a creed, but there are different factions with different beliefs surrounding the creed. Din belongs to a pretty traditionalist sect. They don’t ever remove their helmets.”

“Ever,” Luke repeats.

“I think only immediate family are allowed to see each other’s faces.”

“So when he took off the helmet earlier—it’s ok that Grogu saw him, but I saw him, too. Is that bad?”

“Well _I_ think it’s fine, considering the circumstances. He thought he was saying a last goodbye to his kid. But _he’s_ probably having an existential crisis about it.”

“If he’s the king can he just like, pardon himself? What if I promise to forget his face?”

Luke doesn’t think that’s possible, but he could try.

“I’m really not the person you should be asking these questions.”

“So,” Luke muses. “If a traditionalist Mandalorian is, say, hypothetically, courting someone. When does their partner get to see their face? Not until like…engagement? Marriage? Do Mandalorians _get_ married?”

“Really not the person,” she repeats.

Luke sighs.

“The only thing I know about Mandalorian courting,” Cara says, “is that combat is involved.”

“What, like, suitors fight each other?”

“No,” Cara says. “Suitors fight _the object of their affection_. The person initiating courtship has to defeat their intended in combat to prove their worthiness.”

“What kind of combat? Can they use weapons?”

“I feel like using a lightsaber might be considered cheating,” she says.

“Lightsaber?” Luke says. “Who said anything about a lightsaber? I’m just asking questions.”

“Sure.”

Cara sets aside one knife and starts on another.

“I don’t know if they can use weapons or not,” Cara says, “And before you ask me any more questions that only Din can answer, I’d like to point out that we’ll be arriving shortly to a dead planet occupied by the remains of a race that historically distrusts Jedi. You should probably get some sleep if you want to make a good impression.”

She’s probably right.

***

Luke does not make a good impression.

Knowing that it was pretty much impossible for him to do so is only a small comfort; he could have made a _better_ impression if he hadn’t walked down the ship’s ramp and openly stared in horror at his surroundings.

Leia says he wears his emotions on his face, which is a dumb thing to criticize him for because that’s where you’re _supposed_ to wear your emotions, but he can see how his reaction might have been a little rude.

He’s only been awake for like five minutes though, so he can hardly be blamed and the planet is--

The planet is _ruined_.

Objectively he knew it was a dead planet, but this is.

This is bad.

Really bad.

“Uh,” Luke says. “You’re planning to _live_ here?”

He maybe says that a little too loud judging by the way that nearly every one of the Mandalorians immediately turn to look at him. They’re all wearing helmets but he doesn’t need the Force to tell him that they’re all glaring.

“This is Mandalore,” Din agrees. 

Luke clears his throat. “It just doesn’t seem…habitable.”

“The city’s buildings are mostly protected by domes. Or are underground,” Din says.

“Okay. Sure. But what about agriculture? And like. Oxygen.”

They’ve barely been on the planet’s surface for a minute and Luke is already feeling light-headed

“Hydroponics,” Bo-Katan says. “And there are air filters underground.”

“Right. Okay. But wouldn’t it be easier and …better for everyone’s health to just scrap this one and find a planet capable of sustaining life naturally? Without needing significant terraforming or gas masks or domes?”

“ _Scrap_ ,” Bo-Katan says. 

“Yeah, that was a poor choice of words. My bad. But--”

“The Jedi is not wrong, even if he is disrespectful,” one of the Mandalorians says, reaching to clasp Din’s forearm as he steps off the ship’s gangway. She has a gold helmet and fur cape and there’s an aura of power around her that Luke finds a little fascinating.

“We likely will not remain here,” she says, “but we must first decide where to _go_. The Mand’alor must decide.”

Luke thinks she’s squeezing Din’s arm a lot harder than necessary but it’s difficult to tell between the helmets and the stoicism and the general air of martyrdom that Din wears as habitually as his armour.

“I’m prepared to lend whatever assistance you need,” Din says quietly. “But I am hardly the authority to make that choice.”

“The Darksaber says otherwise,” Bo-Katan says.

“The Darksaber does not _speak_ for me,” Din says.

Grogu takes this opportunity to wake up and screech about the fact that no one is paying him any attention.

“Oh,” the gold-helmeted one says. “The child.”

Din allows Grogu to climb from his carrying sling up Din’s arm to perch on his shoulder.

“ _My_ child,” Din says. 

Gold helmet turns to look at Luke, then reaches one finger to stroke Grogu’s ears.

“I see,” she says. “This is the way.”

“This is the way,” Din agrees.

“Come,” she says, “we have much to discuss.”

And then they’re headed underground.

“Who,” Cara whispers to Din, “Is _that_?”

“She’s The Armorer,” Din answers lowly. “And don’t even think about it.”

“Oh,” Cara says back, “I’m thinking about it. And you’re not going to stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain's Log:
> 
> I need you to know that when I refer to Cara Dune in this fic, I am envisioning Katy O’Brian specifically. If you appreciate fit women who could easily crush a skull with their thighs, feel free to google her. You will not be disappointed.
> 
> In other news, I am now fully vaccinated (shout out to Pfizer) and it is nearly spring break! I'll be headed to Texas on Thursday and will get to hug my mother, do some rock climbing, and actually play D&D in person with my friends (if socially distanced and outdoors). I'm very excited. I also have several doctor's appointments which are less exciting but will hopefully be beneficial in the long run. If the forecast is to be believed, when I leave CO it will be (a surprisingly high!) 30 degrees and when I arrive in Austin it will be 80. Lol.
> 
> Anyway, I may not update next week since I have a bunch of students who suddenly urgently need to talk to me before the break and I'll be driving for essentially two straight days. But I'll definitely have another chapter for you within 2 weeks! 
> 
> Your comments give me life, even if I don't currently have time to respond to them all. Thank you so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Captain's Log:
> 
> Yes. The title is supposed to be a play on words. This is the way.
> 
> I have no idea where this is going, but it's going. Come back next week for chapter 2!
> 
> Thank you to my betas: @nearlydeparted and @protectorowl


End file.
